If I Were My Sister – published in Passages North, Neutrino Short-Short Prize, Honorable Mention

If I were my sister, I wouldn’t be like my mother; our mother: the flesh behind the neon sign that screams GIRLS.

Concrete Worm – published in Hayden’s Ferry Review, selected for Best Small Fictions 2025

"Dad said people like him are meant to be loyal to what hurts them."

"Pepper-black phone numbers stick to our fingertips like crushed ants as we pick out his name..."

"To the soccer-patterned rubber ball, easy to kick, making us laugh every time it hits our shins with a burp sound..."

"At school, we’re learning about the possessive form: The man’s room. The man’s shadow. The man's tight-lipped smile."

I remember a house. An L-shaped house in the woods. Long corridor, small kitchen. One exit, locked.

A flash fiction story that was originally published at National Flash Fiction Day.

Lotti, a high school girl from Budapest, is on a quest for sounding as confident as a native English speaker.

"He holds a guitar case. An unusual sight among the briefcases and laptop bags ruling London’s business district."